Of a Diary
by verbal diarrhea
Summary: A CoS AU fic. The memory of Tom Riddle wishes to get closer to Harry Potter. Unfortunately, Ginny Weasely is in the way. To what lengths will Tom go to get what he wants? TMRHP slash Warning: Character Death! Oneshot


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All I own is the plot, which is essentially a rehashed version of a stereotypical CoS TR/HP scene in the 2nd book.

Of a Diary

Tom looked up from his relaxed position on the floor, as a flair of light caught his eye. His domed ceiling was glowing with a golden light, which seemed to emanate from the black letters that where quickly being scrawled.

Automatically, Tom's gaze went to the ink well on his desk. It was filling with black ink at the same rate that the words on the ceiling were being written. Ginny Weasley was writing to him again. Joy.

Tom contemplated not writing to the girl, who was no doubt writing a tearful, teen-angst filled tirade about how no one liked her or some other such drivel, when two glowing words caught his attention. Harry. Potter.

* * *

Before Valentine's Day, it had been announced that there would be a special celebration, complete with Valentine delivery service. Ginny thought it was a great idea and the perfect time to announce her love for Harry Potter to both him and the world. 

Unfortunately, she soon discovered that she lacked a certain amount of artistic-deftness that a love letter or poem needed. It was quite the dilemma, one that she was quickly working into a mountain, until she remembered that she had a brilliant confidant who could help her. Ginny smiled as she pulled out a diary and some black ink, completely oblivious to the fact that this would be her downfall.

* * *

Tom sat at the desk, quill poised over the other end of the diary (1), and was very annoyed. He supposed it was rather ironic that the person, whom he was using to free his diary-self so that he could woo Harry Potter, was infatuated with Harry Potter as well, and was now coming to him for aid in regards to wooing him. 

It sounded like a bad soap opera plot to Tom, and he wanted it to stop, now.

So, with a sly and malicious grin, Tom wrote a 'love' poem to Harry Potter and gave it to Ginny.

The silly girl thanked him profusely.

1. A very technical thing to explain involving pocket universes and bubblegum. Suffice it to say, the two diaries act like two telephones. Someone writes in one diary, the other one answers. In this case though, there is never another person to put on hold.

* * *

Ginny tore down the corridors in hysterics, one thought ringing in her head: Harry had not liked her poem. She threw herself down in a small nook created by two walls and a suit of armor and cried. She cried about her ruined chances with Harry, and the snickers caused by her poem and her degradation, about how she had asked assistance from Tom... 

Ginny paused. It wasn't her fault, she realized, it was Tom's. After all, he was the one who had written that awful thing. It was he who ruined her future relationship!

Wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve, she looked up, determined to give Tom a piece of her mind. Suddenly, her eyes widened, her expression going from one of determination to shock to vengeful amusement.

Calmly, she got up and brushed stay dust from her robes. As she opened a door, she pulled out the diary, and then threw it into a toilet.

She left, humming, Myrtle shrieking in the background.

* * *

Tom struggled to both stay afloat and pull out his wand. His efforts were hampered, just a little, by his choking on water, that seemed to him to taste a bit of chlorine, and, just a bit more, by his not knowing how to swim. 

Eventually, Tom managed to banish the water, and pulled himself onto a sofa with a decided _squelch_ as he flopped down, utterly exhausted.

As he closed his eyes and wondered about what had caused the sudden flood, and, inextricably, of the fate of his host, Ginny, Tom felt the fatigue of his first near-death experience overtake him and he slipped into darkness.

When Tom awoke, the first thing he noticed was the tight sticky feeling of his air-dried skin, and also the now musty smell of the room. The second thing he noticed was that someone was writing to him, again.

And this time, it was someone far more fascinating that little Ms. Ginny Weasley.

* * *

Tom awoke to the day in a happy frame of mind. No longer was he in the possession of the dreaded Weaslette. No, Harry Potter was writing to him now. 

Suddenly, Tom frowned. He didn't want to consume Harry's life, although the idea of having a little of Harry in him wasn't at all displeasing. He figured that he needed to find a way back to Ms. Weasley. Or else, Tom realized with a wide smile, he needed to bring Ms. Weasley to him.

* * *

Harry sat on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, waiting for Ginny to awaken. The diary lay on the ground next to him. They had been down here for a while, a couple of hours at least, but Harry was patient, and he had questions and a goal to accomplish.

* * *

Ginny stirred uneasily in her sleep. This uneasiness eventually caused her to awaken fully, and then she noticed the damp and the musty smell of the Chamber of Secrets. 

She sat up, her mind racing a mile a minute, and then everything stopped when she saw Harry Potter. It even felt that her heart stopped and that her stomach jumped to her throat.

Then everything seemed to start to function again as she visibly blanched at what this could mean and the repercussions this could have. Mentally, her mind seemed stuck on the same track: What does he know?

In that instant, Harry looked calculating. He looked like how she imagined Tom looked when he was plotting something. And all Ginny could do was sit there and stare back. A part of her mind whispered that cobras mesmerized their prey before striking and that she should get out of there, but she didn't listen. Harry wouldn't harm her.

Harry stopped and sat down opposite her. He held Tom's diary in his hands.

"Is it true?" he asked. "Is it true what Tom said, about how you were the one to open the Chamber of Secrets?"

Ginny bowed her head. "I won't lie Harry. I did open the Chamber, but on Tom's orders."

"You were behind the attacks then," Harry deadpanned.

There was no response, which spoke volumes.

Harry closed his eyes. To Ginny it looked like he was suffering. When he opened them, he asked, "Why?"

Ginny wished she had an answer to that. She didn't. All she had were feelings that couldn't be verbalized. Feelings of power, but also of fear and weakness. Of sick enjoyment, but also of pain. She hadn't enjoyed what she did, that was what she told herself, her mantra. But deep inside, a little voice whispered that, yes, she did enjoy it and that she was utterly intoxicated on the power.

Like an alcoholic, except they don't have AA for attempted-murderers, and she hadn't taken the first step of admitting that she had a problem anyway.

All the while, Harry stared at her, like he could read her innermost thoughts and her soul and was disappointed and saddened by what he saw. Or perhaps, he was warring with himself, torn between helping his best friend's sister, and defeating the evildoer.

"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered, tearing up, "I'm so very sorry."

As Ginny wept, Harry produced a quill and a bottle of ink. He handed those, along with the diary to Ginny. She looked up at him, a confused look on her face.

"Tell him," Harry urged, "Confide in him like you used to. He was the one who brought you into this. He'll be the one to bring you out."

With a sob and a hiccup, Ginny took the offered items and flipped to a random page. She wrote and wrote until the bottle was empty of ink and her skin was looking pale.

Harry watched impassively as Ginny's movements became increasingly sluggish until she eventually slumped over.

A figure slowly materialized out of the dark. He walked up to Harry and encircled his arms around him. "I told you, didn't I Harry? About how she was going bad?"

Harry closed his eyes and trembled, burying his face in his hands.

"It's alright," Tom cooed, stoking Harry's hair. "It wasn't your fault that this happened, and at least this way she died with some innocence left, and with the one she loved."

When Harry's sobs didn't stop or lessen, Tom took him gently into his arms. "Shh, it's alright, love," Tom said gently, letting out a hissed sigh when he felt his shirt getting soaked, again.

He carefully scooped up the younger boy and strode out of the Chamber, shutting the door on a corpse, a bottle of blood and a diary.

A/N: Yea! Wrote my first HP slash fic! Certainly turned out differently than how I was expecting. O.o;; It wasn't supposed to be that...dark? at the end. It started out as so light...

Anyway, this is a story that I wrote a long time ago. I found it when I was cleaning, and polished it up and completed it, for it was only half done.

I wrote it after reading CoS for the twentieth time or so, and disregards the rest of the HP series, so I guess it qualifies as an AU.


End file.
